Red to Blue
by Anybraginski
Summary: Damian Hallows, the Spirit of Halloween, has been weighed down by internal problems for the last 700 years. After the latest battle between the Guardians and Pitch and Jack Frost joining the Guardian ranks, he does his best to help the Guardians without their knowledge. But now, some very dangerous information has been stolen from him by Pitch Black himself, and his time is coming.
1. Chapter 1

When you're invisible to almost everyone around you, live gets interesting. Almost no one can see you, hear you, or even touch you. To them, you simply don't exist. On one hand, it's really cool. It means you can go to any movie you want for free or even dance around in a big rabbit suit if you wanted to! But it also means you can't get that big bucket of popcorn and when someone sits on you, they don't even know it. It can also be rather lonely. I'm not the only one like that though. There are more like me. There's the Leprechaun and the Ground Hog and even Mother Nature. All of them have believers though, a few people who believe that they're real. Those believers would be able to see them. And then there were the Guardians. Those are the ones The Man in the Moon chose to protect children. They're the big names that everyone knows. Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, Sandman, and the Tooth Fairy. And now, Jack Frost too. They're the heroes. And then there's me. Damian Hallows. The Spirit of Halloween I'm not like Mother Nature or the Leprechaun. I don't have believers. If I do, I don't know about them. I'm not a Guardian either. I've never saved someone or gone on adventures. I've never fought against Pitch Black or performed some kind of amazing feat. I'm no hero. I'm not really anything. I just try to get kids to stand up to the monsters they're afraid of and watch dumb movies. I don't even make that big a difference in them. It's not like they're actually going up against a real monster either. I can shapeshift so usually it's just me looking like whatever they're afraid of. I'm not much of a monster but I like to see them have that confidence and courage to fight back even though they're scared of that monster. It's... nice. I usually just stay near my home, the Pennhurst Asylum in Spring City. Fitting right? I especially like it because of the tourist. It's nice to have people there, even though they can't see me. Anyways, when I'm not actually in my little attic of a room in the asylum (it was an old doctor's room) working on machines or other gadgets, I spend a lot of time out in Philadelphia, scaring kids up too late or even a few adults if I thought they deserved it. Even adults could believe in ghosts. That's what I was doing when I saw it, the first one at least. I love night time. It's always peaceful and clear. I can fly up to the tops of buildings with nothing but me and the sky. I can watch all the flickering lights, either on the ground or in the sky, and enjoy the wind with nothing in the way. It made me remember some better times a long, long time ago when things weren't so complicated and people could still see me. I was up on a skyscraper, enjoying the glow from the lights below me. The shadows cast a seriously awesome shadows and if you stand on the ledge on the top, you can pretend to be Batman. That's not really a good idea though since it gets really windy up there. I wouldn't suggest it unless you can stop yourself from falling if you do go over the side. The problem with all those shadows though, it makes things kind of difficult to see. I have better night vision than others but even then, sometimes things can get a little confusing. Especially when going between the buildings. I was rooftop hopping that night though, so I wasn't really worried. I'd turn into either a monster who could leap really far or something with wings and go from roof to roof. I prefer monsters who can jump. It's much more fun. I only turned into a bird if I was crossing a big street or if I hit the river. That night I made my way up to the tallest building first, then slowly picked my down to the smaller ones around it, enjoying the first feet long drops and the feeling of falling. I used to be scared of heights, of falling, but I got over it eventually. I wasn't even sure if I could die. And honestly? I didn't really care much if I did. I think I was on the 5th building when I saw it. It was just a glimpse, a blur in the edge of my vision, but I knew it. I knew what it was and who it worked for. And I knew it was trouble. It had been five years since it happened. Five years since Pitch had tried to destroy the Guardians. He'd done it in the past too but that was back in the Dark Ages. And he'd never hurt Sandy. I knew about it of course. Almost everyone in our world knew about it. We notice when something is going on with the Guardians, Sandman in particular. Sandy lit up the sky every night with his golden sand and sent dreams to children. It would swirl and stream through the sky like golden spiderwebs, just like it did every night, just like it was that night. It was hard not to notice when the dream sand disappeared. That was when I really payed attention. That was when Jack became the first new Guardian in several hundred years. The Guardians won of course and Sandy came back because people believed in him again, but Pitch was still out there, and, if anything, angrier now than ever. I didn't get involved even though I kind of wanted to. Like I said, I'm not a hero. I doubt I could ever stand up to the Boogey Man. I did want to help the Guardians though. I kind of look up to them. All of them, including Jack even though he is new. When the Guardians fought back against Pitch Black during the Dark Ages well... Children weren't the only ones they saved. I couldn't bring myself to even try to help though. I wasn't a guardian and I never would be. I'm too scared, too weak. I can't do anything and what I do manage to do is always wrong. I just mess everything up and they shouldn't have to deal with me. They don't deserve that. I'm not worth the time. So I stayed out of it. Kind of. I had asked some of the animals around the city (mostly rats, cats, spiders, bats, and cockroaches) to stay on the watch out for any of Pitch's stupid little minions. Whenever they found one, they'd tell me and I'd make sure it never came back. I'm not much of a fighter but I did what I could. I probably screwed up anyways. The Nightmare was fast, they always were, but it left a little of sand trail behind it that helped track it. I almost didn't see it, if not for the golden eyes. If they were totally black, I don't think I would have had any luck with them, it was a miracle I'd managed it with the ones I had so far. But since I'm me, I was mid-freefall when I saw it. It took me a moment to change into something with wings (I chose a big bat monster) and by then I almost thought I'd lost it. The horse took a turn in front of a window and revealed itself and I shot after it. I knew these buildings and how to fly through them. I banked where I saw it turn, now having it in clear sights, and merged into the air current just above the Nightmare. Between the backwind lending me it's help and my decent flying, I would have been on the sand horse soon. It seemed to be aware of this fact as well and ran faster. I didn't know why it was here but it didn't matter. It needed to be gone. Even with as fast as a Nightmare was, it wasn't faster than my bat monster and soon I was closing in on it, foot by foot, inch by inch. Right when I was on top of it, it crashed into the shadow of a bill board. I had to shut my wings and drop to avoid smacking into some politician's face. I ended up skidding through the rough gravel on top of the building's roof instead, shifting back into my usual gangly form. That had hurt. I had managed to prop myself up and was shaking the gravel out of my hair when a rat came running up to me. There was a Nightmare in Chinatown. That must have been where it went. I changed back into a bat and headed off to where the horse supposedly was. About halfway there, a bat came swooping up to me. Now there was one near Girard College. This was starting to sound fishy. All the same, I banked hard and headed towards the college. The next one to cut me off was an owl. She told me that the Nightmare was down by the docks on the Delaware River. A cat stopped me to tell me that one was running up and down Schuylkill Expressway, only to get cut off by a rat who told me the Nightmare was at the Civil War Library and Museum. I stopped flying and touched down to talk to them, of course, only to be interrupted by the same bat I'd seen earlier. Now he told me it was by the F.D.R. Golf Club. Next was a new rat, then another cat and then an owl, all arguing a different location. N. 6th and W. Hunting Park Ave. Marconi Plaza. City Hall. Moore Str. Temple University Episcopal Hospital. Delaware Expressway and S. Columbus Blvd. Pennhurst Asylum. I immediately shot into the air at that one. Not only was the only several hours away from here, it was my home. I added just a little magic so I would get there faster. I didn't really have anything there. Well... Nothing that I thought was really important until I thought about it. I had hundreds, no, thousands of monster designs, not to mention the mechanical projects that I had been working on. Even though I made sure that none of them would ever be able to hurt humans, some of them had the potential to be very dangerous. But also, I had some very personal items there. I had books and books filled with designs but also books full of my personal thoughts and letters to people that weren't meant to be sent. The idea of Pitch getting ahold of them... That was worse than if he actually got ahold of any of my machines. With that in mind, it only took a few minutes before the asylum came into view. Again, I tucked my wings as dropped, aiming for the small open window that led to my room. Considering that I didn't go splat against the outside of the building was good, though I didn't exactly have a graceful landing. I ended up smacking against the wall across from the window. Better than the outside though. I hit hard enough that it took me a moment to get my senses back and that was all it took. There was a Nightmare in my room and my sudden appearance made it jerk in surprise, successfully interrupting whatever it was doing. By the time I'd made it to my feet, it had disappeared into the shadows, leaving me in my ruined room. My desk was tossed aside, all my tools and gears scattered across the floor. My wall of designs had been messed with too and many were on the floor with little rips and tears where they had not been kind to the paper. My things were all over the place but that wasn't the worst part. The entire first shelf on my bookshelf was gone as well as two from the second. It was just a little one so it wasn't like there was just an abundance of books but I had small handwriting and could fit a lot of information in just a little room. The first shelf was just design plans, books I had filled my various ideas and designs for new machines. Many of them were the ones that I'd decided wouldn't work. Either because they were too dangerous or because they were just stupid. Whatever the reason, I'd just drawn a big red X over it and done nothing else to them. I never really thought they'd be stolen so I didn't really worry about it. And even if they were stolen, I wasn't worried about anyone successfully making one. I have a very strange way of thinking that makes it very hard to reproduce my designs, especially since I don't actually write down the instructions. I didn't care about them though. I cared about those other two books. The Nightmare must have just been grabbing them, not really paying attention once it had realized that it had found my machine designs. It was only the first shelf that had those. The other two shelves were more person. They were the personal. I ripped the closest book off the the shelf and read it, just to be sure which of them it had taken. And of course it had taken those two. I wanted to curl up on the floor and never leave again. I wanted to become one with the floor or join the ghosts that were tied to the building, and I didn't mean the actors. I couldn't believe that Pitch of all people now had those books. I hated that guy and he was the one who had them now. It was my fault too. I should have been there. I should have figured it out when those Nightmares started popping up everywhere. I should have gotten here sooner. I should have kept those stupid books locked up or at least kept a better eye on them. I should have made sure that no one could have used them if they did get ahold of them. And now Pitch Black had several books filled with dark and dangerous designs and those two books. I was so stupid. I was such a moron. A worthless piece of trash who couldn't do anything right, just like always. Dang it. I found myself back to normal on my knees, just sitting there in the ruin of my room. Normally, I would have been confused or hopeless. I was both actually. I didn't know what he wanted and I knew I couldn't do anything to stop whatever he was going to do. I couldn't even keep a couple of books away from him. I knew that I was nothing but a worthless screw up and a piece of crap, that I'd probably be more help dead, but I also knew what I had to do. I had to tell the Guardians. If Pitch had those designs, he was up to something big. And they needed to know about it. 


	2. Chapter 2

I didn't go to the Guardians right away. I waited about a week before telling them. I know I should have gone before then but I wanted to see if I could find Pitch on my own or if he'd done anything anywhere else that might give me a hint to what he was up to. I asked the animals to tell me if anything happened in other cities but after five days and nothing, I asked them something else instead. I asked them if anything had happened before then and found out that Seattle, New York, Boston, Chicago, and DC had the same thing happen a while ago. Of course, to find this out, I pretty much had to go to the cities. I'd thought about having them come to me but I didn't want to bother them too much. But also, whatever Pitch wanted, he could find it in those book his horse stole. I had nothing else. Unless I counted my monster designs, but since those couldn't be replicated by anyone other than a shapeshifter like me, I doubted he would want those.

When I got to each city, the same thing happened every time. I'd ask one animal what they saw, only to have another interrupt to correct the first animal. They'd get into an argument and it would just grow and grow as more animals jumped in, trying to fix it by correcting everyone else. It got kind of old after a while. I couldn't imagine what Pitch was doing though. I didn't know if he was looking for something or what. I didn't want to think on it either. Whatever it was, it wasn't good and he should be stopped before he could actually do anything. By someone who wasn't me. I would just mess it up. I always messed things up. It really didn't take me that long to find this all out but I still didn't go to any of the Guardians. Who would I go to? What would I say? It wasn't like any of them actually knew me. I mean, they probably knew of me, but they didn't know me. I was just that weird holiday that none of them really interacted with, not like they did with the Leprechaun or the Groundhog. I really doubted if any of them even knew me by my name instead of just 'Halloween'. I sat and thought it over for several nights, sitting on top of the asylum.

It was six days after the theft, well, seven considering that it was roughly three in the morning, when I decided what I would do. Jack Frost was the closest to me, and also the newest. He wasn't quite intimidating as North or Sandman. I didn't really know what I'd say to him but hopefully I could come up with something before I got there. If I rushed, I could get there before the sun came up and catch him since he usually flew off to the other side of the world during the day. It would have made sense since this was Pitch we were talking about. At top speed, it wouldn't take me long at all to get there, we'd have hours before the sun came up. But... I couldn't do it. What if he didn't believe me? What if I said something wrong? What if he blamed me? Or said I was working with Pitch or something? I didn't exactly look like the most upstanding guy with creepy face paint, not to mention the glowing red and black eyes. What if they turned on me? I knew they wouldn't do that but... thoughts just wouldn't stop, bouncing around in my head like bullets in a small space. What if they did believe me but I somehow managed to screw it up, just like I always did? What if I somehow ended up betraying them? Or what if they just hated me? I was making myself sick. I could feel it but I couldn't stop it. I couldn't do anything. This was so stupid. I knew it was. I was just panicking over nothing. I shouldn't be but I was. What if Pitch did managed to figure out my designs? What if he actually won? What if Pitch got rid of the Guardians? Permanently? What if I had waited too long and it was too late now? When did I start shaking so badly? I went back inside ten minutes later, still shaking slightly, and didn't come back out until the next night.

So I didn't actually have a plan. I spend the trip to Burgess trying to figure out what to say to him, and I'd actually figured it out, but actually being there, I couldn't do it. I had planned on just walking up to him and telling him, just explain and be honest. After that, I'd just leave and let the Guardians handle it themselves. I wasn't any good and would just be in their way if I tried to help. I'd even drawn out a few of the designs from the books so I could show them just why this was such a bad thing. I knew exactly what I would say. But when I saw him, I panicked. I don't really know why but everything seemed much harder. All those doubts that I'd had the day before came back and I almost froze up again. I could feel the same thing that happened last night coming again but I shoved it down as best I could. Jack was in some kid's backyard, watching him through the window. The kid wasn't aware he was there. I, meanwhile, was hiding across the street like the idiot I was. I had planned on just walking up to him but I couldn't even do that. I was such a piece of crap. A coward. I moved from my spot at the opening of the ally and pressed myself to the building I was leaning on. I couldn't see Jack and he couldn't see me. Good. The feeling of losing control was creeping up on me again and I thought not watching him would help. It might have if I hadn't accidentally kicked a trash can and made a sound. It was loud enough that he would have heard it. I froze. Crap. Maybe he didn't hear it. Maybe he thought it was a cat or something. Of course he did. What else would he think it was? He wasn't expecting me to be there. It's not like I came here all the time. Of course. It was fine. There was nothing to worry about. I was just being dumb again. After a moment or two, I looked around the corner to see if he was still there. Jack was gone. Where did he go? I messed up again. Of course I did. I never did anything right. It was only normal that I'd mess up even while I was trying to help. I was worthless. I was beyond wo-

"Halloween?"

I tried not to jump, I really did, but I still ended up on the ground after I managed to knock a tin trash can on top of me. This really wasn't very surprising. I could hear Jack trying not to laugh. He failed. It was ok though. I'd be laughing at myself too. He was nice enough to help me up though. He's such a good guy. "What are you doing here?" He asked while helping me up.

My mind went blank. I knew why I was here, I knew what I had to tell him. It's wasn't as though I'd just come here just because, I didn't really do that. It shouldn't be hard to tell him why I was there. But... When he asked, it was like my brain just shut off. I didn't know what to say anymore. I ended up just standing there for a little too long, looking like a moron. I was such an idiot. I couldn't even tell him what he needed to know. "Pitch Black." I finally managed to blurt out at last. His expression immediately darkened.

"What?" He readjusted his grip on his staff.

"He's up to something. I saw him, I mean, one of his Nightmares at least. It stole something from me and I- I just thought I should let you or one of the other Guardians know..." Jack just stared at me for a while, not really knowing what to do. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I messed up. I could tell. Dang it.

"So, what exactly did he take?" He asked at last. I'm pretty sure he was just entertaining me. I wasn't really making much sense. I didn't really blame him.

"Notebooks." So that didn't help at all. "Um, the notebooks with my designs in them. The designs I won't use because they're too much."

"That's right. You make stuff don't you?" Jack seemed to have just remembered that. We really didn't interact with each other that much. It was probably my fault since I really didn't go out much. I just nodded. "Surely it can't be that bad. What could Pitch do with them anyways?"

That was a good question. "I don't know. But whatever it is, it can't be good. Those things aren't nice and if he were to figure out how to recreate them... Let's just say it would be really, really bad." He was giving me a really weird look. I couldn't put my finger on it but I had a feeling it wasn't a good look. After a long pause he sighed.

"Alright. Well." He ran his hand through his white hair. "I guess we should go tell North then. You can fly right?" I just nodded and he shot into the air. I turned into a giant bat and followed after him, which, of course, resulted in another look from him. I couldn't help how much he actually knew about Halloween. If he didn't pay much attention to my holiday, he was going to have more things to be surprised about soon enough.

The trip to the pole was awful. It wasn't to start off, it was actually rather nice in fact. Jack and I didn't actually talk, just flew. I was ok with that since it saved me from having to talk. I'd probably just say something stupid again if I did. Though, the conversation with Jack hadn't gone as bad as I thought it would. I still didn't trust myself though. So instead I settled for enjoying the silence of the flight. As we got closer and closer to the pole, things got colder and colder, even more than normal since we were flying rather than walking. My holiday could get chilly sometimes but not downright cold, I wasn't built for it like Jack, or even North, was. By the time we got there, frost was forming on my fur and along the tips of my wings. If I was a bird that would have been one thing but as a bat, I only had thin skin keeping me aloft, none of that wonderful warm protection of feathers. Next time I did this, I was going to be an owl. Assuming that there was a next time. They probably wouldn't need my help with this, after all it had always been the Guardians job to take care of Pitch and I obviously wasn't one. I still wasn't even entirely sure if they'd even take me seriously. They might just blow me off as a joke or something. I wouldn't be surprised if they did.

We went in through a door at the back of his workshop, which actually might have been the front. I wasn't entirely sure. The whole layout of the place was confusing to me. Jack seemed to know what he was doing though. A group of yetis met us and started leading us through the work shop. Everyone stared at me as we went by, usually taking doubletakes. It was probably because between being half frozen by the trip up here and the shock of seeing the buzzing workshop, I'd forgotten to change back. It was until I'd successfully managed to trip over my own feet and Jack asked me if I was going to stay that way that I even remembered how I looked. Seeing a big black bat with glowing red eyes wandering around the workshop sure would explain the looks I'd been getting. I wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear. I'm very glad I had face paint on when I changed back to hide my face turning red. Even though I was trying to become one with the shadows as we walked along, I didn't stop staring at what was going on around me. The entire place was full of energy, yetis working on hundreds of toys, elves running around doing stupid stunts, light-up discs, airplanes, and other flying toys zipping through the air of their own accord. Seeing all the tools and gadgets gave me a bubbly sense of excitement and all I wanted to do was to jump in and make something myself. On more than one occasion the yetis had to drag me along to keep me from doing so. As we turned a corner, a floating sea turtle drifted along lazy, just close enough for me to reach out and grab it. I flipped it over and started to inspect it's joints when I looked up to see that we'd arrived. North had been talking to Bunnymund when Jack and I walked in and now everyone's eyes were on me. I tossed the turtle behind me, knowing that it would take up it's lazy pace once it was back in the air, and tucked my hands behind me. Again, I shall forever be glad for face paint. I earned an amused chuckle from Jack and a louder one from North, who was jolly as always. Bunny wasn't as amused, giving me a rather harsh look. I avoided looking at him. I knew why he was glaring at me and I would have liked it much better if he hadn't chosen today to visit the pole.

"So Jack, what brings you and your friend here?" North asked loudly, smiling at us. I was just glad he didn't say anything about the turtle. And that Bunny was staying quiet. That probably wasn't going to last long though.

"Halloween sa-"

"Damian." Well that hadn't been planned. Not at all, not at all. They were all looking at me again. Stupid Damian, stupid. They could call you whatever they wanted. It really didn't matter much. I probably wasn't going to see much of them after this anyways. For whatever reason though, being called Halloween was annoying me. I had a name too. How would they have liked it if I called them 'Winter' or 'Christmas'? I was just being dumb. Jack didn't seem to get it, which just irritated me more.

"What?" He asked after I interrupted him.

"My name. It's Damian."

"Oh." Things suddenly got really uncomfortable and quiet. Yeah I'd messed up again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have just kept my mouth shut. It felt like forever before Jack finally said something. "Uh, Pitch is up to something again. He stole some books from Damian."

North's brow furrowed."Books?"

"They were filled with blueprints. Designs I don't use." Again, the attention was on me. I really should keep my mouth shut.

"Blueprints? That does not sound bad."

"If they're his, then they are." Bunny had decided to join the conversation. I was having to fight the urge to turn into a turtle and not come out. "I've seen what those things he makes can do." His glare made me want to set myself on fire. "If Pitch has the ones he doesn't use, we have a problem, mates."

Wow! Were my shoes interesting! "That was an accident." I muttered at the ground.

"Accident? It took me two weeks to clean up after what those little devils of yours did to my tunnels!" Jack and North exchanged a glance, obviously ignorant to what we were talking about. I stayed quiet. I didn't know what to say. I'd messed up. I had been irresponsible and messed up. Bunny wasn't wrong. I was a screw up. And just because I was sorry didn't mean I should be forgiven.

"Wow Bunny, you just have all kinds of bad luck don't you?" Jack broke in, patronizing him. He was rewarded with a scowl from the big Pooka. The two quickly dissolved into bickering.

"Do you think he could actually do anything with them?" I asked North, glad that I didn't have to deal with Bunny's distain towards me.

"Ah, is hard to say." He scratched at his beard absently. "Pitch does not use machines. He has Fearlings to do his work. Whatever it is, we can handle it." He gave me a big smile, trying to reassure me. He didn't do that well a job, being the giant Russian Cossack he was, but it was nice for him to try.

"What I want to know is why you're telling us." Bunny jumped in again.

"Huh?" I didn't see what he was getting at. Why wouldn't I tell them?

"Why are you telling us? You're Halloween. You scare kids. Seems to me like you're an awful lot like Pitch. So what are you doing here?" He challenged. Based on North and Jack's reaction to the question, they'd been thinking something similar. I shouldn't have been offended. Bunny had a point. I wasn't a good person. I did scare kids, though I had a different motive than Pitch did. I shouldn't have gotten mad. But that accusation, that I was like Pitch of all people, it made me furious. How could he accuse me of being like Pitch? Ok yeah, I'd let some of my machines get lost in his tunnels, but that was an accident and he clearly didn't understand what Halloween was about. I could feel myself tensing up and I knew my eyes were glowing brighter from the anger. I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea that he put me in the same category as Pitch Black. A nearby table began shaking furiously and a cup went flying across the room. I was so mad I could barely even speak.

"I am not like Pitch Black." I finally choked out. How dare he even suggest it? I barely even noticed the looks on Jack and North's face, only on Bunny. He seemed honest and truly shocked to see me get mad. Considering the last time we'd met, I'd been chasing around tiny metal eggs and apologizing, it wasn't really surprising. He steeled himself, putting on an even harder look and his paws went to his boomerangs at his side. It just made me madder but.. the more I thought about that look of initial shock on his face, the more it looked like fear. Like he was scared. Of me. All that anger disappeared. He'd been scared of me. I didn't know what I looked like but... Me? Scary? To him? No. That shouldn't have been possible. I was just a weak little spirit, nothing like Bunnymund, the Guardian of Hope. Surely I wasn't that scary, even if I was mad. I couldn't be. But... The way he looked at me. Maybe... Maybe I was like Pitch Black. That thought made me want to curl up and cry. I wasn't like Pitch. I wasn't. I wasn't, I wasn't, I wasn't. Was I? I glanced at North and Jack. The frost spirit was gripping his staff too hard, and giving me a wary look, like he wasn't entirely sure if I actually was a friend. North had a similar expression to Bunny, cold and untrusting, resting a hand on one the hilt of his sword. I suddenly wasn't welcome here. I messed up. I messed up. The table wasn't shaking anymore but I could see that it had moved several inches. And the cup that went flying seemed to glare at me accusingly from where it was shattered on the ground. Had I done that? Had I really done that? Oh, I messed up. I was such a screw up. I couldn't do anything right. "I'm sorry." I barely whispered. "I'm sorry." I didn't look at them, but I could sense that they were relaxing, more confused than anything now. Jack and North at least. Bunny didn't seem to want to let me off the hook just yet. Of course he wouldn't. He knew what I was. I was a freak. A monster. I couldn't be trusted. I didn't even know I could do that. If I didn't know, then how could they trust me? How could they trust anything I said? I was a screw up. Nothing but a big mess. I started inching out of the room. I didn't want to be here. I didn't want to face their distrust or confusion or anything else. I wanted nothing more than to disappear. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." It was all I could say as I stumbled away from them. Even Bunny had relaxed, seeing that I was more upset about this than any of them. I was just trying to help. But I'd messed up. I'd messed up and now they didn't trust me. They probably didn't want to see me ever again. They definitely didn't believe me now. I was just trying to help, to try and protect the kids from Pitch, and now they'd just blow me off. I should never had done this. I should have known that this wouldn't work. I should have just left this whole thing to the Guardians. They were the protectors of the children, not me. I didn't have the right to try and do their job. I'd just screw it up like I did everything else, like I did this. I ran out of the room, away from them and their wary stares and confused looks. When I hit the stairs, I just jumped over the banner, turning into a bat halfway down, and flew out of there as fast as I could. I almost ran into a few yetis a few times, I was trying not to cry while flying, I couldn't, not there, but eventually I got away. I wasn't as lucky on the way home. I couldn't stop the tears then. They just wouldn't stay back and I could feel them freezing in the Arctic wind. I didn't slow down until I was back in the ruined attic room of the Asylum, until I was back where I belonged.


	3. Chapter 3

Five days. It had been five days. I don't know what happened. The two weeks after what happened had been fine, great even. Jack had come to Spring City the next day and apoligized for Bunny, saying that he'd been completely in the wrong and that he and North should have acted differently. I didn't hold it against them. It wasn't there fault. I just messed up again was all. When I told him that though, he told me to stop thinking that way. It wasn't my fault and I shouldn't blame myself. I just stared at him. No one had ever told me that something wasn't my fault. I really liked Jack. He stayed a while after that and we talked a while, trading stories about tricks we'd played. He even asked about my machines, which made me feel even better. No one asked about my hobby. It was nice that someone was finally interested for once. It was a big change from having them called a nuisance or pieces of trash. I almost, almost, took him to the asylum but decided against it. It could be a very dangerous place to visit. The mortals who owned it kept tourist far away from certain buildings and there were rooms even I couldn't go into, they were so soaked with malice and insanity from the ghosts dwelling in them. I didn't think that Jack had that high and opinion of me and I didn't want to make things worse. I settled for the machines I had in my pocket instead.

I only had a few small ones with me. Ten black iron spiders the size of my palm once they had unfolded to full size, six steel rats with huge copper teeth and eyes, and two fold up bats with delicate silver wings. Each of them moved just like the real animal and could function independently. One of the rats could also turn into a three foot long snake if I let it. They were made to be portable so, when collapsed, the largest of them, the rats, were only a few inches big. Jack seemed to be really interested in them, though kept away from the spiders. I could understand that. They were creepy, they all were, but of all of them, the spiders felt the weirdest when they crawled on you. That's why I kept so many of them. I didn't say anything when he froze one of them but it bothered me. The gears in those things were tiny and I didn't want to have to have to fix them if something went wrong from them being frozen. I made sure that they weren't exposed to extreme weather whenever I was out. That's why I didn't have anything on me the day before. But I knew that freezing stuff was Jack's thing. He was Jack Frost after all. I did start putting them up after that though. My excuse was that the spiders had a habit of disappearing when I let them out. It wasn't entirely a lie, they did, but I could always locate them when I needed to find them. Other than the apology, he never mentioned Bunny or what happened at all. I was glad. I really didn't want to dwell on it anymore that I had already. We easily talked for hours. At about three in the morning, music started blaring from Pennhurst and I knew it was time to go. One ghost in particular, a little girl named Kate, had decided my gadgets and I were the most interesting things on campus. Much of the time, she didn't really bother me, especially when I was working, but she had gotten into the habit of turning my music up extremely loud at bizarre hours of the night. I usually had to turn it off before the sound of 'Spooky Scary Skeletons' drew someone's attention. Explaining that I had to stop a ghost from singing Voltaire was interesting. Jack left a few minutes later, laughing about what a weird guy I was. He wasn't wrong.

I didn't expect him to come back but just a few days later, he showed up again, this time to Pennhurst itself. I was in the middle of the project and didn't even notice him until he made it snow. And even then, it was just because my blow torch was weirdly cold. He made some jokes about how I had practically turned into a zombie, which I returned by calling him a frostbitten nuisance. We talked while I worked. Jack went through the blueprints I had pinned up on my wall, asking question after question about them, as well as the machine I was working on. I didn't mind answering, though sometimes what I said didn't really make sense since I was so involved in what I was working on. I got a little nervous when he settled on the top of my bookshelf, but didn't do anything about it. He wasn't hurting anything. It wasn't until he picked up one of my journals and started to open it that I turned around and ripped it out of his hands. I didn't even realize what I'd done until I registered the look on his face. I gave a bumbling apology and set the book on my work desk. Again, he told me not to worry about it. He shouldn't have been going through my stuff in the first place. After that, he relocated to my bed and we talked a bit more before he left, making me promise to show him the machine when it was done. I guess I wasn't that interesting that night. I was sad to see him go honestly. He messed with my stuff and did somethings that annoyed me but I didn't really care. It was nice to have someone around, to have someone to talk to. Someone that wasn't dead or an animal. He was fun and energetic. A big change from the dead and rotting feel I was usually around. I really liked him. I think he might actually be a friend.

A few nights later, once I had finished the robot, I headed straight to Burgess. He was talking with a little boy when I found him, one of his believers. I didn't want to interrupt him and was about to leave when he spotted me and called me down. The little boy seemed confused, so Jack explained, and, just like that, he could see me. I didn't even know what to do when the kid smiled at me. Not in my direction, not at someone behind me, but at _me_. It was amazing. No one had been able to see me for seven hundred years and with just a word from Jack, he could see me. I was absolutely speechless. That earned some giggles from the boy, Jamie. Jack said that the way I was smiling, I didn't even need my face paint. I was in too much shock to say anything for a long time. It had been a very long time since I'd felt so happy. At last, Jack asked about the machine I had in my arms and that brought me out of it. So I set it on the ground for them to inspect. It was a little dog, no bigger than a yorkie terrier, and resembled a wolf. I'd carefully detailed it so it had a layer of soft black fur and an internal heater so it would be warm when touched.

"A dog?" Jamie asked, giving me a skeptical look. Jack had seen what I'd been working on and wasn't as skeptical. After seeing the little toys I carried around with me, he had an idea of just what I could do. I was just glad Jamie wasn't afraid of dogs. That would have been back if he were. I just responded with a knowing smile and snapped my fingers. The dog reacted immediately, it's blank eyes flickered on with a pale yellow light to show that it was active and began expanding outward. Before long, the tiny dog had grown a good two feet taller than me, carefully balancing on it's hind paws. It's front paws were no longer paws, but instead huge hairy hands with long yellow claws easily an inch long. What little fur it had had been stretched as far as it could, covering the most important parts, and leaving other parts bare. It only just barely resembled a human, looking like a dog with human feet and hands instead of a wolf-man. That was the point, it was a werewolf after all. Wolf-men were much more humanoid. It's yellow eyes hadn't changed though, and were now peeking out from behind black fur and a heavy brow. It panted heavily from a snarl that revealed teeth as long my fingers. Jamie immediately backed up, scuttling towards Jack, who had also backed up but only by a step. He wasn't as afraid as Jamie, who looked beyond terrified, but he didn't exactly look like he wanted to get up and pet my dog either. I just stood there, grinning widely. Jack was somewhere between impressed and nervous, which didn't really matter. Jamie was the one who was scared, so the werewolf immediately targeted him, just like it was supposed to. It lowered it's head and growled, taking a few steps towards Jamie. Jack moved closer to Jamie, clearly not trusting the big dog monster. He had a good reason not to but I still didn't like it.

"Heel." I snapped at it, sharply. It immediately took the steps back until it was behind me, completely calm, as though it would never hurt anyone, despite it's appearance. Jack looked surprised that I had been so forceful. Considering that most of the time when we talked, I was fairly shy or jittery or just generally anxious, it wasn't that surprising. But that was the trick with any of my machines. All anyone ever had to do was stand up to it, face their fear, and my monsters would change completely, becoming something enjoyable rather than terrifying. So I asked Jamie if he'd like to try and pet it. Neither of them didn't like the idea of that. Which was fair. It wasn't exactly a fluffy poodle. It took some coaxing and a lot of reassurance that nothing bad would happen but I finally got Jamie to pet the wolf. He walked up to the huge wolf hesitantly, fighting the urge to run away when it started growling at him. Seeing him walk up to it, despite how scared he was, seeing him face his fears, made me happier than anything else that'd happened that night. When he touched the wolf, it immediately turned back into a little black dog, and yipped at him happily, demanding a scratch behind the ears. They were both surprised. Which was the whole point, of course. Whatever someone was afraid of really wasn't that bad once they faced their fear. The little dog sure was greedy and kept demanding more scratches. Jamie played with the dog for a while and Jack and I watched him. Even though Jamie was 13, he wasn't the oldest person to have fallen for my tricks, though he was one of the few that actually played with it afterwards. He entertained it with a pretty intense game of fetch. But it was still new and didn't have much of a battery so it wasn't long before I had to turn it off. I gave Jack and Jamie a good bye and headed back to Spring City. It was past Jamie's bed time anyways.

After that, things felt... wrong. All that happiness didn't seem like mine, like I didn't deserve it. I knew that feeling. I knew it too well. I did my best to shove it aside but it just wouldn't go away. I found myself getting frustrated over nothing and spending less and less time on my projects. Finally, one afternoon, I broke. I was at my desk working on a new design when it hit. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't do anything. It just happened. The drawing wasn't right. I just couldn't get it right and I kept getting angrier and angrier. I couldn't understand why but I hated it. So I crumpled it up into a ball and tossed it across the room, even though I'd easily spent an hour working on it. I hated it. I _hated_ it. I hated all of it! I grabbed paper after paper, sheet after sheet, balling them up and getting them as far away from me as possible. They were horrible. All of them. Every single one. Crap. Crap. _Crap_. I didn't pay attention with the sharp corners made by the paper dug into my palms; I welcomed it. I was a piece of crap. Worthless. Pathetic. I couldn't do _anything_. And in the long run, what did they matter anyways? Who knew how long they'd last, how long I'd last? I would just get forgotten, left behind by everyone and everything. The world would keep moving without me because I couldn't. I was stuck like this forever. I started grabbing pieces of whatever metal I could and through them against the wall. Gears and wires exploded against the wall, making a harsh_ tink_ sound when they hit. Who said I wanted to be like this anyways? Who said I wanted to be Halloween? I never signed up for this. _NEVER._ If this was some kind of sick joke the Man in the Moon was playing on me, he could go fight Pitch himself. If he was so high and mighty, he's the one who should be dealing with that guy, not forcing others to do his dirty work for him. I shouldn't even be here! I should have died seven hundred years ago. But no. Someone or something hadn't let me. So instead I was stuck like this. Some kind of freak, a monster. I threw the gears faster and faster, making them ricochet away when they hit the wall. I should be dead! I wished I was dead! I wished I was gone completely... I was slowing down, feeling hollow and empty. Like I'd been flayed and everything taken out. And now, now things just hurt. Everything hurt. I didn't even realize when I'd started crying. When I reached out for something on my desk, for the last throw, a sharp piece of steel bit into my hand. I dropped it almost immediately, recoiling from the pain, and looked down at my palm. A line of red was drawn across my hand, angry and bleeding. I should have gone to get something. I should have wrapped it up and stopped the bleeding. But I couldn't. I could only stare at the blood, my blood, slowly oozing from the cut. It broke through the numbing pain, if only for a second, replacing it with a different kind of pain that was so much sweeter than the numbness. It was real. It took up a little bit of that emptiness with that pain. Before I knew it, the piece of metal was back in my hand. I wasn't sure if I even knew what I was doing when I pulled back my sleeve and dragged the metal slowly across my skin. I made a long line from just below my wrist to mid-forearm. It was only three, three and a half inches long, but it made things better. That pain. It took away the numbness and replaced it with something else. It was the only thing that seemed real when everything else didn't. It was like all the bad was leaking out of me with the blood. So I did it again, savoring the pain. It was real. I was real. And if I kept doing it, maybe, just maybe, I'd be ok.

It wasn't until the third cut that some sense returned to me. What was I doing? How could I do this? I'd never done this before. Whatever had happened before, I could handle it. I'd been handling it for hundreds of years. So what happened? Surely things weren't this bad. I threw the metal away from me, staggering backwards until I tripped into my chair. Everything around me seemed to come into focus. I'd done that. I'd messed up everything around me. But then again, didn't I always? Now I was going to have to clean it up before anyone found it, found me. But... who would? Who cared? I'd been alone all this time. No one cared about me. No one would ever find out, even if I did clean this up. So really... what did it matter? I cried. I don't know for how long, hours at least since the sun had gone down by the time I'd calmed down enough to actually look around again. I cried until my chest felt like it wold burst and I couldn't breath anymore and even then I kept on crying. I didn't think anyone could cry that much but apparently I could. Even when I calmed down enough to breath normally, I didn't stop crying. The tears just rolled down my cheeks, one after another, and no matter how much I wanted them to stop, they wouldn't. I was loosing it. I was loosing control. I knew it and worst of all, I couldn't do anything to stop it. I didn't know what to do anymore. No one cared about me. No one knew what was going on. No one even had a clue what was going on. It was just me and it always had been. I deserved it. I was horrible. A worthless piece of trash. I was nothing. So I let the numbness take me. For a long time, it hurt in it's slow, aching way, but, after a while, I was numb to even that. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I didn't care about anyone. And I certainly didn't care about myself. Why should I? No one cared about me. I didn't move. I didn't think. I just sat there like some kind of mindless puppet, drowning in my own feelings of self loathing and numbness. That had been five days ago. I hadn't gotten hungry and even if I did, I doubted that I would actually do anything to stop it. And when I got tired, I just drifted off to sleep and woke up again to just sit there and stare at the wall. The only time I moved was to go to the bathroom. My back was to the window so I didn't see Jack until he was already in the room and standing in front of me. I was suddenly very aware of how I looked, how my room looked, and, most importantly, those cuts on my arm.

"Damian? Are you ok? What happened?" He looked worried. It almost made me smile. No one got worried about me. He was such a good actor. I was nothing. Still, I felt like I had to answer him. I shifted in my chair, surprised at how stiff I was. I guess that's what happens when you don't move for days on end. I managed to get to my feet though. I waved Jack off.

"I'm fine." I said. It came out wrong though. It was scratchy and dry because I hadn't had anything to drink in a while. It was not 'fine' at all. And Jack knew it.

"Damian, you're not fine. Stop. Would you look at me!?" He reached out and grabbed my arm, the one with the cuts on it. I couldn't stop myself from wincing. He noticed that too and turned over my arm to find the three cuts dirty and glaring up at him. I'd never bothered to do much with them. I wouldn't sick and I didn't care if I did. He took in a sharp breath and I jerked away from him. "Damian..." I needed to get away from him. I saw a glimmer of gold outside in the dark. Sandman. Sandman was here. That just made everything worse. I looked up to the Guardians, respected them, Sandy most of all. He'd helped the most after the Dark Ages, helping my nightmares turn back into dreams. I owed him a lot. I couldn't... I couldn't let him see me like this. I was a wreck. I was horrible. The bathroom was that much more important now. It was only a few feet away. But not eating and drinking for a few days did things to you. I was weak. I nearly tripped twice on my way there. I did my best to ignore Jack but he kept getting in my way, trying to stop me. He was scared for me, I realized. He was scared of what I'd do if I got to the bathroom. Finally, I had an opening and I took it, darting into the little room and closing the door behind me before Jack could do anything. I locked it and slouched against the cool door, just wishing that they would go. I could hear Jack banging on the door, telling me to open up, but I didn't move. I didn't want to see them. i didn't want to see anything. After a while, I got up and turned on the water, if only to drown out Jack's voice as he went back and forth between threatening me and pleading for me to open the door. At least when the water stopped, Jack let up for a while. I didn't actually plan to do anything but the face I saw in the mirror stopped me. I could see why Jack was so scared. I looked terrible. My face paint was caked and cracking, with deep salty ruts running down each cheek. That's what you get for using water based paint instead of oil based. But that's not what was really scary. What was really scary was the eyes that stared back at me. They were the opposite of what was normal, with the iris the color of dried blood and what should have been white, a dark, dark black. That was normal though. For me at least. But those eyes, they didn't glow with any kind of emotion. They were empty and blank. They were the eyes of a dead person. I knew why Jack was scared. I was scared to, seeing what he saw through the mirror. I looked like I'd already decided to die. I grabbed a rag from the drawer and wet it. Cleaning off the makeup was a methodical process and swipe by swipe, all of it disappeared. I still looked a little like I used to before I was Halloween. I still had pale skin and pitch black hair. The same thin angular face. But the pointy ears hadn't always been there. Neither had the dark circles under my eyes. If I closed my eyes, I could almost, almost pretend I looked like I used to.

There was a new knock at the door. It wasn't Jack's insistent banging. No. This one was much softer, as though it was afraid it might wake me up. Sandy. I could practically see the look on his face, his eyebrows knitted together and mouth in a frown. If he talked, he probably would have tried to comfort me out of the bathroom by telling me that it was ok or some kind of lie like that. Maybe. I didn't really know him that well. But his knock simply said, 'I'm here'. I almost went out then, but I still wasn't ready. Things were silent again and I started putting on new face paint. I covered my entire face in white, just like always, methodically moving across my face. It was normal and seemed to help just a little. Jack tried to call me out again. I didn't answer. Instead, I got out the black and started to paint on the lines that would look like I was smiling. Maybe that's why I'd chosen this design. To smile. No one would notice. The smile was always painted on, literally or not. It almost didn't seem right. Such a false face with such dead eyes. It didn't stop me though. It was what I did regularly. I wasn't even thinking about it. Jack and Sandman had been quiet for a while now and there was another voice at the door now.

"Damian, Damian. I do hope you're done hiding in the bathroom. I'd much rather talk to you face to face." It was Pitch.


End file.
